In the summer of 2005, my mom, dad, younger sister, and I traveled to Massachusetts. When I look back on it, this trip was an eclectic mix of history, relaxation, and new experiences. However, at the time of our departure, I was in my “bratty incoming high school freshman” stage and was upset about leaving my boyfriend at the time back in Illinois. Although spending time with my family didn’t seem like the greatest way to spend ten beautiful summer days, I couldn’t be left home alone.
Our first stop was the history filled city of Boston. Our hotel was located on the Long Wharf of Boston Harbor and was absolutely gorgeous. I was able to indulge my love of seafood thanks to Boston’s proximity to both Massachusetts Bay and the Atlantic Ocean.
My parents also bought tickets for a Red Sox game at FenwayPark. That was quite an experience! Before the game we got a bite to eat on Yawkey Way right outside the stadium, watched the die-hard fans as they piled in, and listened to the distinctive Boston accent of the vendors. Midway through the game, the Boston fans began passing around a beach ball overhead. As the ball floated towards my dad, I could tell he was planning something. Finally, as the ball reached him, he smacked it as hard as he could and the ball sailed up over the Green Monster and out into the street. I had never felt more like a tourist in my entire life.
The second stop on our trip was historic Plymouth. At this point in the trip, I had warmed up and was trying my best to be pleasant. As we drove into town, I was completely unaware of what my family and I were going to experience. After settling into our quaint hotel, we headed to Plymouth Rock. Since I am not a history buff, I was not all that excited about going to see some rock on the beach. However, that all changed when I caught my first glimpse of the Rock. I was actually standing where the Mayflower landed and the Pilgrims took their first steps ashore! It felt so strange to be standing in a place that was so full of history.
Later that night, our family decided to take the Plymouth Ghost Tour. As we arrived for the tour, I was a wreck. The thought of walking through cemeteries at midnight was not my idea of a good time. I turned out to be very wrong. Our tour guide was knowledgeable and eccentric and the tour itself was something I had never experienced. We were able to see gravestones from hundreds and hundreds of years ago and we even searched for orbs. It was a crazy tour but I left with a new found curiosity in the paranormal.
As we boarded the plan for Chicago, I was glad that I had opened myself up to Massachusetts. After a few delays, we were home. I not only had a bunch of souvenirs, but also many memories that would last forever. By the way, I’ve since moved on from the boyfriend mentioned earlier. He wasn’t my type after all.
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